"I, sir, am a member of the Clare County Medical Society--I was once President of that learned body, and have since then for seven consecutive years been its Secretary--my penmanship being illegible to the other members, and often to myself, preventing many disagreements, by precluding a successful reference to the minutes of past meetings. Now, sir, tell me, as man to man, can I consult with, or listen to suggestions--even to suggestions, though worthy of a gigantic intellect--can I listen to suggestions coming from the mentality of a non-member of our learned body? Before replying, let me say that our society is known throughout all of Egypt--that is, you know, Egypt, Illinois. When a medical savant in Paris, or Leipsig, or London, alleges a discovery, we determine the questions of its originality and its value--the chief purpose of our meeting, however, being to present our own discoveries. Now, sir, I appeal to you whether our rules should or should not be strictly obeyed--and the second clause of section three of those rules and regulations--an ethical necessity, and found in the ethical codes of all well-regulated medical societies the world over--says that a member shall not meet in consultation a non-member, even to save a human life--a decidedly remote possibility." He paused. Neither Bainbridge nor I spoke. In fact, an expression of our thoughts would have been wholly unnecessary, as Castleton appeared to comprehend what was in our minds, as shown by his continued remarks. "'Liberality,'" you may say: "True, there should be liberality in this eternal world. Individually we _are_ liberal--we _are_ gentlemen; but it is different with us when you take us as a body. I am for harmony. I admit that at our meetings we do sometimes fight like very devils--life is a conflict, anyway. Sir, the country is full of cursed heresies and growing schisms.--But let me ask--not the doctor here, whom I respect for his immense learning and Cyclopsian (I mean large--not single-eyed) wisdom--what _his_ remedy would be? I ask you, sir, not him." Here Doctor Castleton stepped close to my side, and speaking into my ear in a ghastly whisper, said, "The ass isn't Regular!" He then drew back, and looked at me as if expecting astonishment on my part. I then exchanged a few words with Bainbridge, and informed Castleton of the result. "Ah, ha--ah, ha--indeed," he said, with as near an approach to sarcasm as was possible with him. "So my learned young friend thinks that an organ--the liver--weighing nearly four pounds is to be moved with a hundredth of a drop of--of--anything! Damn it, sir, am I awake?" "Ask Doctor Castleton, sir, what portion of a grain of small-pox virus it would require to disseminate over a whole county, if not checked, a dread disease? Ask him from what an oak-tree grows?" "Ask him," said Castleton, "how long it takes an acorn to act. In this case we require celerity of action--force and penetration."